CleverFox
shylarahOpened up for a second story with similar premises but with a Firefly/Serenity universe setting (or similar)
Black Ninja Member
- Last Seen: 7 mos ago
- Old Guild Username: Black Ninja
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
- Posts: 579 (0.15 / day)
- VMs: 0
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Username history
- Black Ninja 11 yrs ago
- Latest 10 profile visitors:
Status
Recent Statuses
5 yrs ago
@littleone - No. The world would not be better off without you. Those who know you will greatly miss you. Hang in there. Sometimes it might not seem like it but you mean a lot to those who love you.
4
likes
5 yrs ago
I'm alive. I'm going to see if I can get back into a bit more active. I have a good feeling about this year but then again, it just started so :/ lol
1
like
5 yrs ago
Currently alive....for whatever that is worth.
2
likes
6 yrs ago
I'm in the process of moving so I'm currently a bit CrAzY at the second. Hopefully, I'll be back to normal reply schedule soon (after the move and the insanity of getting basic unpacking done)
2
likes
6 yrs ago
Been sick for two weeks. Not fun at all :/ Just FYI
Bio
Current Status (updated 12.6.21):
I've quit my job and am currently job hunting. I'm hoping that and a few other things will help me enjoy life again.
I am around a bit though better to discuss on discord.
I'm not looking for new partners/stories at this time.
I've quit my job and am currently job hunting. I'm hoping that and a few other things will help me enjoy life again.
I am around a bit though better to discuss on discord.
I'm not looking for new partners/stories at this time.
Most Recent Posts
Roger accepted the tea with a smile. "Thank you." He took a sip before setting it carefully aside. He picked up a stack. "Good idea. I'll go through this stack and see what I can find." He wasn't exactly sure of what he was looking for. Neither of them were. They did know that someone, no doubt a past friend, had sent Bea her father's letter. It had to be someone distant that her father would have trusted yet at the same time would not have been suspicious enough to have his enemies look at them - or at least closely. Professor Brown was intelligent if anything. He knew what he was doing. Pulling out a small notebook and a pencil, Roger set it beside him. "I'm going to make notes of every name I run across and the dates of the letters." He told Bea. "This was we can check patterns and last time there was contact."
When had Professor Brown given up his teaching career? The rise of mysticism had slowly gained ground, even having a bit of traces of the movement at the end of the war. However, it wasn't until it really took off in 1925 that the Professor decided to stop all his work. It was interesting really. He had spent a lifetime studying mysticism with his colleagues laughing behind his back. That hadn't stopped him. He had kept going, pushing on. It wasn't until they turned and accepted him - pretending to welcome him in with open arms - that he had actually quit. Roger guessed the old adage was true: Your friends are not those who are with when you are standing tall but the ones who are there when you were down at your lowest. Those were the friends that Professor Brown would trust. Those would be the ones he would ask to hold a letter for him.
Roger glanced through the letters. He skimmed them to get the general idea. Noting down the date, name, and profession - when applicable - he set it aside and moved to the next letter. Despite the fact that Professor Brown had gone reclusive in his latter years, he had quite a collection of letters ranging over the years. Most of them were business related. A lot of the more recent were requests for him to come back to studying. To share his findings. To research. To work in some university. Those Roger noted as well. Though he doubted the professor would have been on friendly terms with them, it might be something he would have done to cast-off suspicion. After about a dozen or so letters Roger paused for a second and stretched. He glanced over at Bea. "How's it coming?"
----
Estella followed the woman out. She didn't dawdle but she did look at the ship as she walked. Exiting the vessel she turned. She smiled. It was touching and very thoughtful of the woman. All she had done was deliver some parts and she now had a recommendation? Especially considering the fact her and professionalism didn't seem to match. Sure, she was friendly and nice. She put up with things but when Estella thought of professionalism she thought of someone more fancy, more...refined. She just did her work hard and with a good attitude. These people were...different. She didn't see this type of kindness that often. "Thank you," she said. She nodded to the ship. "If you ever need more parts, Rufus' got them." She smiled once more, gave a half bow/courtesy before heading off.
Several feet away she thought about pausing and looking back to admire the airship. She glanced back and flushed. The woman hadn't gone in yet. She raised a hand up in farewell, acting as if that was the whole purpose before looking forward again. Of course that was just tacky too. Either way, she kicked herself mentally before deciding to shrug it off. Oh well. It was doubtful she'd see them again anyway. She was only going to stick around with Rufus a bit more before moving on. She frowned. Well, she actually might see them. It depending on when they were planning on leaving. There was no way that vessel would take off - not without replacing that part. She made a mental note to find a replacement and pull it aside after she gets back to the shop. They were going to need it. She reached into her pocket and felt the tip. And they shouldn't need to worry about paying either. She smiled.
When had Professor Brown given up his teaching career? The rise of mysticism had slowly gained ground, even having a bit of traces of the movement at the end of the war. However, it wasn't until it really took off in 1925 that the Professor decided to stop all his work. It was interesting really. He had spent a lifetime studying mysticism with his colleagues laughing behind his back. That hadn't stopped him. He had kept going, pushing on. It wasn't until they turned and accepted him - pretending to welcome him in with open arms - that he had actually quit. Roger guessed the old adage was true: Your friends are not those who are with when you are standing tall but the ones who are there when you were down at your lowest. Those were the friends that Professor Brown would trust. Those would be the ones he would ask to hold a letter for him.
Roger glanced through the letters. He skimmed them to get the general idea. Noting down the date, name, and profession - when applicable - he set it aside and moved to the next letter. Despite the fact that Professor Brown had gone reclusive in his latter years, he had quite a collection of letters ranging over the years. Most of them were business related. A lot of the more recent were requests for him to come back to studying. To share his findings. To research. To work in some university. Those Roger noted as well. Though he doubted the professor would have been on friendly terms with them, it might be something he would have done to cast-off suspicion. After about a dozen or so letters Roger paused for a second and stretched. He glanced over at Bea. "How's it coming?"
----
Estella followed the woman out. She didn't dawdle but she did look at the ship as she walked. Exiting the vessel she turned. She smiled. It was touching and very thoughtful of the woman. All she had done was deliver some parts and she now had a recommendation? Especially considering the fact her and professionalism didn't seem to match. Sure, she was friendly and nice. She put up with things but when Estella thought of professionalism she thought of someone more fancy, more...refined. She just did her work hard and with a good attitude. These people were...different. She didn't see this type of kindness that often. "Thank you," she said. She nodded to the ship. "If you ever need more parts, Rufus' got them." She smiled once more, gave a half bow/courtesy before heading off.
Several feet away she thought about pausing and looking back to admire the airship. She glanced back and flushed. The woman hadn't gone in yet. She raised a hand up in farewell, acting as if that was the whole purpose before looking forward again. Of course that was just tacky too. Either way, she kicked herself mentally before deciding to shrug it off. Oh well. It was doubtful she'd see them again anyway. She was only going to stick around with Rufus a bit more before moving on. She frowned. Well, she actually might see them. It depending on when they were planning on leaving. There was no way that vessel would take off - not without replacing that part. She made a mental note to find a replacement and pull it aside after she gets back to the shop. They were going to need it. She reached into her pocket and felt the tip. And they shouldn't need to worry about paying either. She smiled.
Roleplay Status: Closed
The nebula pendant has been in your family for generations passed down to the eldest daughter. You never saw it until your mother lay ill on her deathbed. Even then, you didn't know what it meant. With her dying breath she clasped it into your hand. "This is your legacy." She managed to make out before dying. Ever since you kept the pendant. It called to you in a way. It resonated with you. You had no idea what your mother meant. Perhaps if you had more time with her, perhaps if you had been a bit older before she died you might have learned the secrets but you had not. And then you were alone. An orphan child with no one to take you in.
And so you survived. How you survived, even you wondered that sometimes. Life was not easy in the kingdom. Bandits killing and taking what they want. Crew lords pressing urchins into their gangs only to betray them as needed. Men looking for pretty lasses for deeds unspeakable. But you survived. In fact, there was a hint of luck around you.
One time you had found yourself in a corner with no way to go, pressed up against a wall. Your three oppressors closed in. Even then you had been brave. You had pressed your back up against the wall and raised your fists. Then for some reason they fled, terrified as if seeing something behind you. But when you looked it was just your shadow.
Another time, you were running from the local guard. They almost had you when for the strangest reason an army of cats came out of nowhere and attacked them, allowing you to escape.
It was little things like that. Little thing here. Thing there. You never seemed to be cold. In winter, you always were warm. You could be bare foot and in rags but the cold never touched you. In the heat of summer you always had a cool breeze when you needed it most. Animals loved you. The alleyways were not as dark at night.
Even after you were finally adopted by a village couple. Taken in, you still had uncanny luck. The wash dried so much quicker around you. The garden flourished under your touch. You could start a fire in the wettest conditions. You never stumbled. Even when you got older and some of the village boys tried to steal kisses from you, you stay. In the night, they would lose you even though you could see fine.
Now did you even notice your luck? Most likely. You were intelligent to realize something was different. Did you know where it came? Whatever the case, others noticed. It wasn't very obvious at first. Maybe because for a portion of your childhood you were always on the move. It wasn't until after you had a new home and life that people started to notice. The very luck that kept you safe now alienated you. True, your adoptive parents loved you but they were just two in a sea of voices that feared you.
Soon it was hard to walk through the village without others avoiding you. They didn't confront you - no. They feared what might happen and feared whatever was protecting you. Then it happened. John, the Butcher's son, tried getting you away in the woods. You escaped but he remained lost in the forest for three days before stumbling out rambling about darkness and bears. After that their animosity increased. They no longer just avoided you. They avoided your family. They ostracized you all. That was when you realized you wouldn't be able to stay. You wonder if you will ever belong.
Hey all!
Thanks for reading.
Re-adjusted my other story for this idea.
First off though:
Still interested? Great!
So - I'm really looking for one individual (again 18+, preferably female) so I might be a bit picky.
Therefore, this might not be first come - first serve. We'll probably chat briefly and make sure we both have the correct understanding before making the decision to move forward (or not). Please don't feel bad if it doesn't work out. You are still a wonderful person :)
Writing samples are always fun (and I can submit one if you'd like) but it's up to you. Though note - I might go check out your writing on current RPs. It's not that I'm stalking - think of it more openly spying :)
Overall, I'm looking for someone who enjoys writing, has some great ideas, and is fun.
If you're interested send me a PM and we'll see what comes of it
The nebula pendant has been in your family for generations passed down to the eldest daughter. You never saw it until your mother lay ill on her deathbed. Even then, you didn't know what it meant. With her dying breath she clasped it into your hand. "This is your legacy." She managed to make out before dying. Ever since you kept the pendant. It called to you in a way. It resonated with you. You had no idea what your mother meant. Perhaps if you had more time with her, perhaps if you had been a bit older before she died you might have learned the secrets but you had not. And then you were alone. An orphan child with no one to take you in.
And so you survived. How you survived, even you wondered that sometimes. Life was not easy in the kingdom. Bandits killing and taking what they want. Crew lords pressing urchins into their gangs only to betray them as needed. Men looking for pretty lasses for deeds unspeakable. But you survived. In fact, there was a hint of luck around you.
One time you had found yourself in a corner with no way to go, pressed up against a wall. Your three oppressors closed in. Even then you had been brave. You had pressed your back up against the wall and raised your fists. Then for some reason they fled, terrified as if seeing something behind you. But when you looked it was just your shadow.
Another time, you were running from the local guard. They almost had you when for the strangest reason an army of cats came out of nowhere and attacked them, allowing you to escape.
It was little things like that. Little thing here. Thing there. You never seemed to be cold. In winter, you always were warm. You could be bare foot and in rags but the cold never touched you. In the heat of summer you always had a cool breeze when you needed it most. Animals loved you. The alleyways were not as dark at night.
Even after you were finally adopted by a village couple. Taken in, you still had uncanny luck. The wash dried so much quicker around you. The garden flourished under your touch. You could start a fire in the wettest conditions. You never stumbled. Even when you got older and some of the village boys tried to steal kisses from you, you stay. In the night, they would lose you even though you could see fine.
Now did you even notice your luck? Most likely. You were intelligent to realize something was different. Did you know where it came? Whatever the case, others noticed. It wasn't very obvious at first. Maybe because for a portion of your childhood you were always on the move. It wasn't until after you had a new home and life that people started to notice. The very luck that kept you safe now alienated you. True, your adoptive parents loved you but they were just two in a sea of voices that feared you.
Soon it was hard to walk through the village without others avoiding you. They didn't confront you - no. They feared what might happen and feared whatever was protecting you. Then it happened. John, the Butcher's son, tried getting you away in the woods. You escaped but he remained lost in the forest for three days before stumbling out rambling about darkness and bears. After that their animosity increased. They no longer just avoided you. They avoided your family. They ostracized you all. That was when you realized you wouldn't be able to stay. You wonder if you will ever belong.
Hey all!
Thanks for reading.
Re-adjusted my other story for this idea.
First off though:
Still interested? Great!
So - I'm really looking for one individual (again 18+, preferably female) so I might be a bit picky.
Therefore, this might not be first come - first serve. We'll probably chat briefly and make sure we both have the correct understanding before making the decision to move forward (or not). Please don't feel bad if it doesn't work out. You are still a wonderful person :)
Writing samples are always fun (and I can submit one if you'd like) but it's up to you. Though note - I might go check out your writing on current RPs. It's not that I'm stalking - think of it more openly spying :)
Overall, I'm looking for someone who enjoys writing, has some great ideas, and is fun.
If you're interested send me a PM and we'll see what comes of it
Roger was grateful for that but it didn't set his fears to ease. Just because nothing out of the ordinary had happened, didn't mean she still wasn't being watched. He hoped though that since it had been a year that whoever was involved in her father's murder wasn't to interested in her at the moment. Though, he was sure that if she moved or went somewhere, that would undoubtedly raise questions. Especially, if it was sudden. Thankfully for them, it was summer time and that was a perfect time to go somewhere without raising to many questions.
But then again, she did visit her the room where her father's stuff was stored. Would that raise an alarm? A bit annoyed at himself for letting his mind start worrying, he pushed the thoughts back. He would stay vigilant but worrying wasn't going to help anyone. In fact, it would just make things worse. Not to mention, IF they were being watched, freaking out and acting paranoid might actually give them away to the fact that they knew what had happened. And that could raise even more concerns.
They reached the boarding house. Roger stepped aside so Bea could unlock the door. Ms. Mortimer never left the door unlocked. This is a home of young ladies. Who knows what ruffians might try to come in and take advantage of one of you. And of course by ruffians, she undoubtedly meant anyone of the male gender. Roger wondered if she had always been like this or if some guy had really hurt her. He guessed the latter as something like that wasn't just innate. But at least she wasn't overly hostile... mostly.
He helped Bea spread the papers on the table and then start going over them closely. He was looking for anything that might resemble the handwriting found on the envelope. "Did your father have any friends that he hadn't seen in a long time?" He asked. Though he had worked with Doctor Brown for some time, he really didn't know a lot about the man's past. It wasn't something that was discussed. Though he had always been warmly welcomed, he wasn't privy to something like that.
----
Estella resisted a sigh. This woman was making way to much of an issue out of this. Seriously. She had endured worse. But then again, she found that sometimes some people felt guilty or bad for what others did. Then of course they'd try to make it up. She wasn't ungrateful - no. She just didn't like handouts - no matter what you called them. Her mother's words echoed in the back of her mind. It's not always about pity. Sometimes people want to just be nice and give you something. It'd be prideful to refuse them. She inwardly sighed. Fine. But that didn't mean she'd keep it. She accepted the money with a smile. "Alright. Thank you. Though," she wanted to make sure it was clear. "For the delivery. Not for the any consultation advice." Her next smile was a genuine. "That's free."
She wasn't the type to let something keep her down. Oh she got down, but rarely when she was with people. She was great at compartmentalizing. But then again, humor was always a great way to cope with life.
Pocketing the tip, Estella nodded her thanks to the Captain. She then followed the young woman back out of the bridge.
But then again, she did visit her the room where her father's stuff was stored. Would that raise an alarm? A bit annoyed at himself for letting his mind start worrying, he pushed the thoughts back. He would stay vigilant but worrying wasn't going to help anyone. In fact, it would just make things worse. Not to mention, IF they were being watched, freaking out and acting paranoid might actually give them away to the fact that they knew what had happened. And that could raise even more concerns.
They reached the boarding house. Roger stepped aside so Bea could unlock the door. Ms. Mortimer never left the door unlocked. This is a home of young ladies. Who knows what ruffians might try to come in and take advantage of one of you. And of course by ruffians, she undoubtedly meant anyone of the male gender. Roger wondered if she had always been like this or if some guy had really hurt her. He guessed the latter as something like that wasn't just innate. But at least she wasn't overly hostile... mostly.
He helped Bea spread the papers on the table and then start going over them closely. He was looking for anything that might resemble the handwriting found on the envelope. "Did your father have any friends that he hadn't seen in a long time?" He asked. Though he had worked with Doctor Brown for some time, he really didn't know a lot about the man's past. It wasn't something that was discussed. Though he had always been warmly welcomed, he wasn't privy to something like that.
----
Estella resisted a sigh. This woman was making way to much of an issue out of this. Seriously. She had endured worse. But then again, she found that sometimes some people felt guilty or bad for what others did. Then of course they'd try to make it up. She wasn't ungrateful - no. She just didn't like handouts - no matter what you called them. Her mother's words echoed in the back of her mind. It's not always about pity. Sometimes people want to just be nice and give you something. It'd be prideful to refuse them. She inwardly sighed. Fine. But that didn't mean she'd keep it. She accepted the money with a smile. "Alright. Thank you. Though," she wanted to make sure it was clear. "For the delivery. Not for the any consultation advice." Her next smile was a genuine. "That's free."
She wasn't the type to let something keep her down. Oh she got down, but rarely when she was with people. She was great at compartmentalizing. But then again, humor was always a great way to cope with life.
Pocketing the tip, Estella nodded her thanks to the Captain. She then followed the young woman back out of the bridge.
Roger gathered up the folders and other contained things Bea wanted and stacked it. When they were about ready, he picked up the trash and the stack and followed Bea out the door. He waited while she locked the door. "If everyone is out and Mrs. Mortimer is asleep, we probably could use the kitchen table." He suggested. He could imagine everyone's reaction if they saw the two of them in Bea's room unsupervised. And even though neither would do anything questionable, he didn't want her reputation questioned. Besides, kitchen table. Where else would you have a nice flat surface to work on? Assuming of course, you didn't have nosey people coming back or a land lady waking up and coming out.
He followed Bea down the hallway, discarding the trash in a receptacle as they passed one. "Have you seen anyone out of the ordinary?" He inquired, holding the door open for her as they headed outside. His eyes scanned the street but there was nothing out of the ordinary. He walked beside her as they made her way back to her apartment.
---
Estella followed the woman out of the room and back into the maze of passageways. She examined the airship as they walked along. It was a lovely ship. She smiled as Rebekah tried to apologize. "Think nothing of it," she said. She had worse. A lot worse. Thankfully, she knew how to make a real good locking door and if need be, use a gun. "You get used to it in my line of work." They headed along. Now Estella was no expert but she really didn't remember these twists and turns. It was a good thing that she was being escorted. She'd get lost. When she was on the Allure she had walked it with a paper sketching out a map so she wouldn't get lost. Of course, she didn't make it obvious - she had received enough flack but it helped navigate.
"Oh ok." Estella shrugged. She wasn't sure why but whatever. She really didn't need to get back right away and hey - any additional time on this vessel was a joy. They come onto the bridge and her eyes lit up as walked in. Quickly covering her interest, she nodded to the man. "How do you do." She said politely. So this was the man who owned this fascinating mechanical wonder. As Rebekah went over to him real quick, Estella tucked her thumbs into her pockets. Remembering it wasn't actually very feminine, she pulled them back out again she let her hands fall to her side.
Turning to give them a slight bit of privacy, Estella watched them out of the corner of her eye. When the woman came back, Estella turned her attention back to her. She smiled at the positive energy displayed. The smile faded slightly as she was offered the money. "Oh no." She said raising her hands up. "I can't take that." She shrugged off the explanation. "I don't care. Doesn't bother me." She gave a quick smile to show she didn't mean to offend. "You get it a lot in my line of work. Don't worry, I'm good." She smiled. "Thank you though."
He followed Bea down the hallway, discarding the trash in a receptacle as they passed one. "Have you seen anyone out of the ordinary?" He inquired, holding the door open for her as they headed outside. His eyes scanned the street but there was nothing out of the ordinary. He walked beside her as they made her way back to her apartment.
---
Estella followed the woman out of the room and back into the maze of passageways. She examined the airship as they walked along. It was a lovely ship. She smiled as Rebekah tried to apologize. "Think nothing of it," she said. She had worse. A lot worse. Thankfully, she knew how to make a real good locking door and if need be, use a gun. "You get used to it in my line of work." They headed along. Now Estella was no expert but she really didn't remember these twists and turns. It was a good thing that she was being escorted. She'd get lost. When she was on the Allure she had walked it with a paper sketching out a map so she wouldn't get lost. Of course, she didn't make it obvious - she had received enough flack but it helped navigate.
"Oh ok." Estella shrugged. She wasn't sure why but whatever. She really didn't need to get back right away and hey - any additional time on this vessel was a joy. They come onto the bridge and her eyes lit up as walked in. Quickly covering her interest, she nodded to the man. "How do you do." She said politely. So this was the man who owned this fascinating mechanical wonder. As Rebekah went over to him real quick, Estella tucked her thumbs into her pockets. Remembering it wasn't actually very feminine, she pulled them back out again she let her hands fall to her side.
Turning to give them a slight bit of privacy, Estella watched them out of the corner of her eye. When the woman came back, Estella turned her attention back to her. She smiled at the positive energy displayed. The smile faded slightly as she was offered the money. "Oh no." She said raising her hands up. "I can't take that." She shrugged off the explanation. "I don't care. Doesn't bother me." She gave a quick smile to show she didn't mean to offend. "You get it a lot in my line of work. Don't worry, I'm good." She smiled. "Thank you though."
Roger nodded and completed his sandwich. He put the wrapper into the brown back and snatching Bea's, placed it in as well. Wiping his hands on his pants, he looked at the mess. "That might be a good idea." He looked her way. "Though I doubt Ms. Mortimer will be appreciative of me stopping by and her lounge isn't the best place to look at something like this." He gave her a smile. "But doesn't mean we can't do a lot of searching before hand. That way when you do head back, you'll have a lot to work through." He looked at the mess again. Picking up the envelope that had brought Bea's father's last note he studied the handwriting so he could remember it when he looked. He set it back down. "So, what would you like me to do?"
Going through papers might seem very tedious to some, but Roger didn't mind. He was enjoying the company. He sat on the ground going through a box listening to Bea talk. She was a very brilliant young woman - when she wasn't scatterbrained. He smiled. She did enough talking for both of them which he didn't mind. He enjoyed hearing her talk about whatever was on her mind at the moment. Of course, right now a lot of it revolved around her father and this mystery.
He genuinely hoped they could find the research her father had done. Not so much for the world - they didn't really need it. Oh, they wanted it but he wasn't doing this for them. No, he knew that if they found the Professor's research than that might give additional closure for Bea. Re-connect her with her father. And that alone was worth it. It was just a shame that they had some unknown enemy to worry about. Realizing he was crumpling a paper, he loosened his grip and set it aside. Nothing was going to happen to her - not if he had anything to say about it. She didn't have anyone else. And even if she did, he was her friend and woe to anyone who hurt her.
---
Estella felt a bit of relief as she entered the engine room. Setting the box down she crossed her arms, rubbing them slightly. She looked around in awe at the engine. It was magnificent. Beautiful. Amazing. The sound of heavy footsteps caused her to look away. She stepped aside as a man entered. She almost corrected him when he called her a lad but he did it himself. Then he turned and looked at the parts. Estella shrugged. She was used to people thinking she was male - at least at first glance. What annoyed her was when they didn't realize it after the second. It wasn't like her hair was short or her face was masculine. Trousers or not, she was obviously female and though she might not have - as her mother put it - been endowed like Rachel of old - she still caught a man's eye occasionally - which wasn't always good.
She glanced at the mechanic a moment seeing if he had any issues with the order. It was exact but she knew if someone dropped off a box, she'd would go through it to make sure everything was there. It wasn't always "complete" as it should be. While she waited slightly, she heard a very slight irregulation in the engine's sound. Frowning she walked over to it and placed her ear next to it. It was faint but she heard it. She always did have a good ear.
"What are you doing?" The mechanic asked glaring at her. He paused and glanced toward Rebekah as if remembering she was there. "Shouldn't you be on your way?" He asked a bit more politely.
"You're engine's off." Estella replied. "You have something loose in the..." she paused frowning as her brain searched for the correct English translation. The mechanic raised his eyebrow mockingly. Ignoring him, Estella found the word. She then mentioned it. It was a spot that wasn't easy to get too but was critical in take off and landing. "If you don't fix it, you'll have issues with your takeoff."
The mechanic gave her a look. "How would you know?" He scoffed. He looked her over. "What do you know? You're just a..." he paused. He was about to say girl but he didn't want to come off sexist while Rebekah stood there. "a delivery girl." He paused and listened again. It wasn't audible - the only reason Estella picked it up was because she had extremely well hearing. He shook his head. "No." He gave her a condescending smile. "Leave the mechanic work to the experts, lass."
Estella kept the annoyance off her face. It wouldn't cause any major issues. The airship wouldn't get very high and it wouldn't crash otherwise she would have argued it more. But she wasn't the mechanic. It wasn't her ship. Though, the damage it was going to cost irritated her. Shrugging, she headed toward the door. "Just saying, I doubt you'll get five feet off the ground without an issue." She glanced at Rebekah briefly before heading out the door. She paused. "Uh, how do I get out again?"
The mechanic snorted. He turned away muttering something about incompetent delivery kids who think they knew everything. Remembering his manners he turned back. "Miss Rebekah."
Going through papers might seem very tedious to some, but Roger didn't mind. He was enjoying the company. He sat on the ground going through a box listening to Bea talk. She was a very brilliant young woman - when she wasn't scatterbrained. He smiled. She did enough talking for both of them which he didn't mind. He enjoyed hearing her talk about whatever was on her mind at the moment. Of course, right now a lot of it revolved around her father and this mystery.
He genuinely hoped they could find the research her father had done. Not so much for the world - they didn't really need it. Oh, they wanted it but he wasn't doing this for them. No, he knew that if they found the Professor's research than that might give additional closure for Bea. Re-connect her with her father. And that alone was worth it. It was just a shame that they had some unknown enemy to worry about. Realizing he was crumpling a paper, he loosened his grip and set it aside. Nothing was going to happen to her - not if he had anything to say about it. She didn't have anyone else. And even if she did, he was her friend and woe to anyone who hurt her.
---
Estella felt a bit of relief as she entered the engine room. Setting the box down she crossed her arms, rubbing them slightly. She looked around in awe at the engine. It was magnificent. Beautiful. Amazing. The sound of heavy footsteps caused her to look away. She stepped aside as a man entered. She almost corrected him when he called her a lad but he did it himself. Then he turned and looked at the parts. Estella shrugged. She was used to people thinking she was male - at least at first glance. What annoyed her was when they didn't realize it after the second. It wasn't like her hair was short or her face was masculine. Trousers or not, she was obviously female and though she might not have - as her mother put it - been endowed like Rachel of old - she still caught a man's eye occasionally - which wasn't always good.
She glanced at the mechanic a moment seeing if he had any issues with the order. It was exact but she knew if someone dropped off a box, she'd would go through it to make sure everything was there. It wasn't always "complete" as it should be. While she waited slightly, she heard a very slight irregulation in the engine's sound. Frowning she walked over to it and placed her ear next to it. It was faint but she heard it. She always did have a good ear.
"What are you doing?" The mechanic asked glaring at her. He paused and glanced toward Rebekah as if remembering she was there. "Shouldn't you be on your way?" He asked a bit more politely.
"You're engine's off." Estella replied. "You have something loose in the..." she paused frowning as her brain searched for the correct English translation. The mechanic raised his eyebrow mockingly. Ignoring him, Estella found the word. She then mentioned it. It was a spot that wasn't easy to get too but was critical in take off and landing. "If you don't fix it, you'll have issues with your takeoff."
The mechanic gave her a look. "How would you know?" He scoffed. He looked her over. "What do you know? You're just a..." he paused. He was about to say girl but he didn't want to come off sexist while Rebekah stood there. "a delivery girl." He paused and listened again. It wasn't audible - the only reason Estella picked it up was because she had extremely well hearing. He shook his head. "No." He gave her a condescending smile. "Leave the mechanic work to the experts, lass."
Estella kept the annoyance off her face. It wouldn't cause any major issues. The airship wouldn't get very high and it wouldn't crash otherwise she would have argued it more. But she wasn't the mechanic. It wasn't her ship. Though, the damage it was going to cost irritated her. Shrugging, she headed toward the door. "Just saying, I doubt you'll get five feet off the ground without an issue." She glanced at Rebekah briefly before heading out the door. She paused. "Uh, how do I get out again?"
The mechanic snorted. He turned away muttering something about incompetent delivery kids who think they knew everything. Remembering his manners he turned back. "Miss Rebekah."
I'll message you.
Thanks I try :) @ICanbeanyone
Interested?
Interested?
~ Friendly little bump with some updates made in the overall concept ~
Current Status: Temporarily Closed
Scientists have always been stretching as far as they could go. Most of the time, their work benefited humanity - improving living conditions, life spans, and way of life. But some, push in other ways. Some for the joy of unrestricted research, others for the money, and still others because they were forced.
It was a secret project - unbeknownst to the world. Bordering unethical and even a bit inhuman, it was kept on the down low. Decades of research, billions invested, and many failures but it finally paid off. They had created life - well at least manipulated the current strands of DNA to make a superhuman. The wake of dead bodies and failed subjects were countless but none of it mattered now. It had been done. The ultimate soldier. A trained assassin and spy that would obey their beck and call. Perfect for military use or secret organizations.
The weapon did all that they hoped it would do. Extremely intelligent it flew through the lessons of mathematics, science, history, computers, and anything else assigned to it. In fighting - it become faster and more powerful as it aged. Able to on skilled ex-special forces one on one. With super speed, enhanced senses and incredible reflexes the weapon was turning out as they hoped. Survival - the weapon was able to blend in no matter where it was dropped - the forest, city, ocean and somehow manage to survive and get back to base.
The creators were not stupid. They knew that precautionary steps should be in place in case a fail safe was ever needed. The small implant by the brain stem took care of that. Able to be remotely activated, it would cause a small explosion that would effectively kill the weapon. But only a few really thought it was necessary.
Along with training in education, fighting, and survival - the weapon underwent severe mental conditioning. From even before birth it was fed information and subliminal commands to ensure the utmost obedience.
Thus, when everything went wrong, no one saw it coming. No one knew why or even how the weapon managed to escape. Several people paid for the blunder but the powers that be knew that they had to get the weapon back - dead or alive.
But even with a fail safe, they had to find the weapon first. The ultimate spy - the survivalist of the survivors, the weapon completely fell off the grid. But that didn't stop them. They would find the weapon. They would bring it back in and "fix" the issue. They would see what happened, wipe it and then start over. Only as a last resort would they use the kill switch. It was after all - worth billions.
Hey all!
If you are still reading then thank you.
I'm looking for something similar to Dark Angel, Cybersix, x23, weapon x style RP. Or for laymen's terms: genetic experiment gone awry. Military and/or secret organization wanting to track down their weapon, etc. etc. etc. :)
I added a couple options that can kickstart a brainstorming session of where we want to take it. But first things first:
Still interested? Great!
So - I'm really looking for one individual (again 18+, preferably female) so I might be a bit picky.
Therefore, this might not be first come - first serve. We'll probably chat briefly and make sure we both have the correct understanding before making the decision to move forward (or not). Please don't feel bad if it doesn't work out. You are still a wonderful person :)
Writing samples are always fun (and I can submit one if you'd like) but it's up to you. Though note - I might go check out your writing on current RPs. It's not that I'm stalking - think of it more openly spying :)
I'm looking for someone who enjoys writing, has some great ideas, and is fun.
If you're interested send me a PM and we'll see what comes of it
Scientists have always been stretching as far as they could go. Most of the time, their work benefited humanity - improving living conditions, life spans, and way of life. But some, push in other ways. Some for the joy of unrestricted research, others for the money, and still others because they were forced.
It was a secret project - unbeknownst to the world. Bordering unethical and even a bit inhuman, it was kept on the down low. Decades of research, billions invested, and many failures but it finally paid off. They had created life - well at least manipulated the current strands of DNA to make a superhuman. The wake of dead bodies and failed subjects were countless but none of it mattered now. It had been done. The ultimate soldier. A trained assassin and spy that would obey their beck and call. Perfect for military use or secret organizations.
The weapon did all that they hoped it would do. Extremely intelligent it flew through the lessons of mathematics, science, history, computers, and anything else assigned to it. In fighting - it become faster and more powerful as it aged. Able to on skilled ex-special forces one on one. With super speed, enhanced senses and incredible reflexes the weapon was turning out as they hoped. Survival - the weapon was able to blend in no matter where it was dropped - the forest, city, ocean and somehow manage to survive and get back to base.
The creators were not stupid. They knew that precautionary steps should be in place in case a fail safe was ever needed. The small implant by the brain stem took care of that. Able to be remotely activated, it would cause a small explosion that would effectively kill the weapon. But only a few really thought it was necessary.
Along with training in education, fighting, and survival - the weapon underwent severe mental conditioning. From even before birth it was fed information and subliminal commands to ensure the utmost obedience.
Thus, when everything went wrong, no one saw it coming. No one knew why or even how the weapon managed to escape. Several people paid for the blunder but the powers that be knew that they had to get the weapon back - dead or alive.
But even with a fail safe, they had to find the weapon first. The ultimate spy - the survivalist of the survivors, the weapon completely fell off the grid. But that didn't stop them. They would find the weapon. They would bring it back in and "fix" the issue. They would see what happened, wipe it and then start over. Only as a last resort would they use the kill switch. It was after all - worth billions.
Hey all!
If you are still reading then thank you.
I'm looking for something similar to Dark Angel, Cybersix, x23, weapon x style RP. Or for laymen's terms: genetic experiment gone awry. Military and/or secret organization wanting to track down their weapon, etc. etc. etc. :)
I added a couple options that can kickstart a brainstorming session of where we want to take it. But first things first:
Still interested? Great!
So - I'm really looking for one individual (again 18+, preferably female) so I might be a bit picky.
Therefore, this might not be first come - first serve. We'll probably chat briefly and make sure we both have the correct understanding before making the decision to move forward (or not). Please don't feel bad if it doesn't work out. You are still a wonderful person :)
Writing samples are always fun (and I can submit one if you'd like) but it's up to you. Though note - I might go check out your writing on current RPs. It's not that I'm stalking - think of it more openly spying :)
I'm looking for someone who enjoys writing, has some great ideas, and is fun.
If you're interested send me a PM and we'll see what comes of it
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